


unravel

by setosdarkness



Series: OTP Collection - IwaOi [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Shiratorizawa!Oikawa AU, model!Oikawa, the not childhood friends au, what if oikawa didn't meet iwa-chan in his childhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setosdarkness/pseuds/setosdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru has been content all his life – a wonderful modeling career, an intense relationship with volleyball super-ace Ushiwaka, the whole world has been practically handed to him. Everything changes when he accidentally meets a gruff, irritable, no-bedside-manner-whatsoever medical student Iwaizumi Hajime, who doesn't even recognize him and his brilliant face.</p><p>[or: The one where Oikawa and Iwaizumi aren't childhood friends, but Iwaizumi changes Oikawa's entire life anyway.]<br/>[or: The 14 meetings between Iwaizumi and Oikawa and how it unraveled Oikawa's life and rebuilt it from ground up.]</p><blockquote>
  <p>"…so, if I suddenly keel over and die, they'll know that it was you who poisoned me!"<br/>"If I wanted to kill you, I would do so with my own hands."<br/>"Uwaaaa, is that a threat? I guess they really weren't kidding when they mentioned that stalkers do tend to be violent after a while…"<br/>"I said I'm not stalking you!"</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01 - park bench

**Author's Note:**

> ...This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it's gotten kind of long and I wanted to get the first part out of the way. :)
> 
> chapter outline:
> 
> 01 - park bench  
> 02 - sports shop, clinic, bar, little tykes' volleyball school  
> 03 - coffee shop  
> 04 - fashion shoot, hospital room, hotel lobby, penthouse suite  
> 05 - Iwaizumi's apartment, Iwaizumi's family home, gym, [???]  
> 05.5 - reunion party, Aobajousai, [???]

**_••• unravel \ˌən-ˈra-vəl\ to resolve the intricacy, complexity, or obscurity of •••_ **

**••• 01** \- park bench  
  
"Ugh, the things I do for them…"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 27, world-famous supermodel, isn't someone who should be caught dead in some unknown playground in the suburban part of Miyagi prefecture. Yet here he is, ducking in-between low tree branches and large shrubs that occupy most of the space hiding the shortcut between his nephew's elementary school and the main roads.  
  
The summer sun glares down at him and his baby-smooth skin – thank goodness for the invention of sunblock – and Oikawa glares back at the sky from behind his dark sunglasses. Oikawa carefully doesn't think about the ants that merrily crawl around to stock up their food for the winter, just as he wisely doesn't think about the various bugs and beetles flying around the area.  
  
He rarely gets the chance to visit his family house in Miyagi and he can honestly say that it's not a big loss for him.  
  
Whenever he drops by, his disrespectful brat of a nephew always causes him trouble (Takeru's just too young to understand his beauty and charm, that's all…), his older sister always complains about him never bringing any of his model friends back home (it's not like he wants to invite any of them anyway…) and his mother always fusses about him and his resistance to the idea of learning how to cook healthy meals for himself (veggies will always remain as gross to him and milk bread is awesome, okay). His father has always been the sole source of quiet in their home, but his quiet disapproval of his life choices is something that Oikawa's grateful for not being voiced out (he's long grown out of the stage in his life where he's clamoring for approval—it's not like he expected them to support his choice of being with Ushiwaka, but still…).  
  
Oikawa lets out a noisy sigh as he shakes his head at the feeling of leaves getting stuck to his hair. He's not going to forgive Takeru if he ends up going to Ushiwaka's interview looking like he rolled around in the playground or something equally vile. Also, he's going to whine non-stop if he ends up being later than fashionably late despite his use of the shortcut that has been suggested to him by his older sister.  
  
His mood brightens a little bit when he spots a couple of park benches – a sign of modernity after a couple of minutes of wading through overgrown plants teeming with wildlife. If he focuses enough, he can almost hear the sounds of civilization from beyond the clearing.  
  
Civilization means the possibility of being seen and recognized, so he needs to make himself presentable.  
  
Oikawa's about to sit on one of the benches, but the signs of decay and dirt deter him from approaching. There's only one bench that didn't look like it came directly from a horror-movie-slash-antique shop. Oikawa approaches with caution though, because there's already an occupant and he looks like the one from said horror-movie-slash-antique shop, what with the thick eyebrows, mean set of his lips, horrifyingly deep eyebags, all packaged nicely with a 'don't-you-dare-disturb-me' aura.  
  
Oikawa isn't a person easily deterred by other people though. He needs to sit down so he can retouch his make-up properly and he's going to sit on that bench, whether the other person wanted it or not.  
  
"Can I sit here?" He asks as sweetly as possible, fluttering his eyelashes from behind his thick, dark sunglasses and clasping his hands in front of him. He doesn't wait for an answer (nobody has ever dared reject him outright, after all) and flops into the bench with great feeling. He quickly takes out his concealer and powder to even out his complexion, right after patting his face with the face towel to get rid of any excess sweat and oil. Ugh, he can't wait to be back to the hotel and enjoy room service and airconditioning against this grueling summer weather.  
  
Oikawa makes sure to angle his face away from the other occupant, because one can never be too sure about safety and whatnot. The other does look scary enough to be a delinquent, so…  
  
His phone rings – a chirpy recording of his own voice chanting the words, 'I'm late, I'm late~♪'– an alarm, advising him that the interview is about to start in three minutes. It's not like he needs to be there – it's just about Ushiwaka-chan's team's endorsement anyway – but they had already decided that it would be good for both their publicities for him to show up to support the other.  
  
"…you're late and yet you'd rather waste time putting on make-up?"  
  
Oikawa pauses, mid-brush of his eyebrow, before raising his perfectly-sculpted brow to glare at the other guy. He regards the other man – sees a bunch of papers barely-held by binders and medical textbooks arranged like tomes – sees the sleeplessness and stress that are unique amongst students – sees the other's thick eyebrows raised at him in incredulity.  
  
"I need to look my best," Oikawa replies loftily, before resuming his last-minute retouch. He can feel his foundation caking from the extreme heat and he sends a quick prayer to the make-up gods to let his foundation last.  
  
"You look stupid."  
  
Oikawa gasps in shock and when he looks at the other, he can see his shock mirrored (though not as prettily) on the other's expression too. He keeps in mind that he needs to always act charming, because paparazzi are everywhere and there are a lot of people who would pay good money to have his image tarnished.  
  
He can't help but run his mouth in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance though: "Stupid?! Do you even know who I am?!"  
  
"…no?" The other looks at him quizzically and Oikawa feels a dash of dread. Oikawa can see the effort on the other's expression, as though he's really thinking of his identity. "You're probably not someone important then."  
  
"N-not important," Oikawa echoes faintly, resisting the urge to stomp his feet. He's been on countless magazine spreads and he's been on international runways. He's widely-known as the Grand King of fashion shows and he's probably the most well-known Japanese supermodel to date. He's Oikawa Tooru and this commoner doesn't even know him??? "But I'm…"  
  
"Was I supposed to know you?"  
  
Oikawa has never met someone who has been so unimpressed with him. True, Ushiwaka-chan has a range of expressions on par with a stone fish or maybe a rock, but the other always looked at him in equal parts wonder and disregard. Oikawa has always successfully elicited reactions from everyone he has ever encountered – most of them pleasant reactions, but of course, he's realistic enough to know and understand that he can't please everyone so haters are part of everyday life. But the expression on the other's face borders on apathy – like he honestly couldn't care on who Oikawa is, like the words and formulas scribbled on his papers are more interesting than having a supermodel in disguise in front of him.  
  
And it somehow hurts and excites Oikawa at the same time.  
  
"I'm Oikawa Tooru," he gamely extends a hand to the medical student in front of him, who still looks unimpressed.  
  
The other's face contorts into something that looks vaguely like wariness. Oikawa resists another urge to whine and complain, because random strangers loved him. They have never looked at him with distrust or caution, because his lovely smile and angelic face usually takes care of lowering down all of their guards. Oikawa pouts and hates the way he can feel beads of sweat forming on his back, despite his loose shirt.  
  
"…it's Iwaizumi Hajime." He looks like he's really unhappy about disclosing any information about himself. "And you're late."  
  
Oikawa rolls his eyes at the other's testy tone.  
  
He's late though, so he doesn't respond to the other's words. He quickly grabs his make-up kit and practically runs towards the main roads, waving a casual goodbye over his shoulder.  
  
Oikawa's not quite sure what possessed him to introduce himself to other commoner who doesn’t even know the great Oikawa-san. He reasons that in case this will be a problem in the future, he can always ask his PR team to quash this person so that his image will remain as sweet as always. But then again, given the other's general disinterest on anything but the things he's studying, it's not likely that the other will remember him (ugh, he's not mad about that at all, okay) or that the two of them will cross paths again.  
  
Oikawa manages to flag down a cab so he can reach Ushiwaka-chan's hotel faster and carefully doesn't think about that one measly encounter.  
  
(Of course, at that point in time, neither of them knew that it was an encounter that will change both their lives.)  
  
 **••• to be continued**


	2. 02-05 - sports shop, clinic, bar, little tykes' volleyball school

**••• 02 – sports shop**  
  
"Ugh, it's kind of hot…"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 27, world-famous supermodel, isn't someone who would be caught dead inside a local mall that has very weak airconditioning. Yet here he is, because Ushiwaka-chan's too busy with promoting his team and doing exhibition matches at practically every school in the neighborhood that's honestly even more annoying than those round-the-neighborhood political campaigns. Yet here he is, enduring this very shabby mall who doesn't seem to want to spend more on making their customers comfortably cool.  
  
Don't they know that it's summer?! Do they want their customers to flood the mall with their sweat???  
  
But then again, looking at the paper-thin clothes of his fellow shoppers and the distinct lack of flooding inside the mall, it's probably more that the mall owners know that their target market is so used to the brutal weather for them to spare an additional airconditioning unit or two.  
  
To make matters worse, none of the stores here carry the latest line of clothes and make-up that he had bookmarked on the internet. Not to mention, the cinemas look strangely small and he highly doubts that they offer the 4D viewing experience here. How is he supposed to entertain himself then?!  
  
It's only because he has officially run out of ideas that he ends up going inside a sports shop. He doesn't think about buying anything for himself – hasn't thought of that for a long time, at least not while inside a sports shop – but he does get the idea of buying something for Ushiwaka-chan. At this point in Ushiwaka-chan's career, he probably already has twice of everything here, no thanks to his massive sponsor list, but a little gift wouldn't hurt, right? It's not like he has anything important to do.  
  
Oikawa hums as he gravitates towards the stack of brightly-colored volleyballs. It's been an absurdly long time since he last touched one – he isn't counting, he isn't, he isn't – and an even longer time before since he enjoyed playing the game. He lets out a noisy sigh as he shakes his head to clear himself of his morbid thoughts. His huge sunglasses slip down his nose slightly and when he takes a moment to adjust it while walking away from the display that just gives him a headache—  
  
"Ow, ow, ow—" Oikawa complains as he rubs at his arm and stomach. What the hell? Did someone just bulldoze into him or something? "—watch where—oh. It's just you."  
  
Because he's a busy supermodel who has no time to waste on commoners, he doesn't know the other guy, though he admittedly still remembers the other's huge eyebags, mean face and thick eyebrows. There are no books and bound papers in sight, but they're probably just inside the huge backpack the other's carrying.  
  
"Oikawa… Tooru," the other guy – Iwaizumi, not that Oikawa remembers commoners, but his memory is just that perfect, okay – mumbles after a few seconds of blinking blearily at him. Oikawa freezes for a moment, because this is probably going to be the moment when Iwaizumi will bow down and apologize for his spectacularly rude behavior of dissing the great Oikawa-san. Oikawa will find it in himself to forgive the other guy, because he's a saint, but he'll refuse to give the other an autograph, not because he's a petty person who plants grudges – he isn't, he isn't, he isn't – but because he needs to punish the other for insulting him and calling him— "…the stupid-looking guy."  
  
???  
  
!!!  
  
?!!  
  
"Excuse you, I'm not stupid-looking!"  
  
Iwaizumi nudges him with his pointy elbows – ah, so it was those elbows that bumped into him – before hissing, "Keep quiet, dumbass – do you want to get kicked out of the shop?"  
  
Oikawa doesn't think the shop owner is stupid enough to chase away their only potential customers for the day.  
  
And damn, those are some pointy elbows.  
  
"Ugh, stop hurting me, stupid Iwa-chan."  
  
"Iwa-chan?!"  
  
"Yes, a short nickname to fit someone short like you." Oikawa sticks his tongue out at the other, shorter, guy. Well, to be honest, the height difference them isn't too much, maybe around four or five centimeters at most, but Oikawa doesn't really know the other and he doesn't know what he can retort to him to cause maximum damage. He's a pretty good judge of character though, and something tells him that Iwaizumi Hajime is a guy who hates being belittled.  
  
"It sounds ugly."  
  
Oikawa chuckles despite him not having an ounce of care about the other.  
  
"Oh yes, how very fitting, hmm?"  
  
"Dumbass."  
  
"Wow, you really don't know other insults aside from that?" Oikawa's never been insulted by such shallow words – at least, not directly to his face. It's kind of exciting to talk with someone who's so different from the usual people he encounters. It's refreshing—exhilarating even. But then again, the sweaty summer heat probably just fried his mind.  
  
"Stupid dumbass is good enough for you."  
  
"Hey!!!"  
  
Then the guy has the nerve to turn his back to him and to stride to where the volleyballs are. Oikawa's long gotten over the sport – what's the point of playing if he can't ever win against geniuses like Ushiwaka-chan and Tobio-chan anyway, he isn't going to be good enough, sleepless nights spent on analyzing match videos are useless, practicing jump serves until his right knee breaks is useless, volleyball is useless, he is useless at volleyball – and he's long over that, he is, he is, he is—  
  
"—Oi."  
  
Oikawa blinks as he focuses on the firm hands on his bare arms. His eyes travel from the tanned hands to the well-defined muscles of the other's biceps that are poorly hidden by the sleeves of his plain shirt, to the thin layer of sweat gathering on the other's neck, to the chapped lips that has probably never seen the light of chapstick, to the narrowed eyes that have worry swimming on them.  
  
Oh.  
  
Oikawa laughs uncertainly as he steps back, the other's hold on his arms loosening with the motion.  
  
"Sorry, sorry, I spaced out~★"  
  
Oikawa makes sure to knock at his head playfully and sticks his tongue out – his ultimate pose of airheaded-ness. Oikawa's long gotten over that sport and there's no use bringing up all those thoughts here and now, is there?  
  
Iwaizumi Hajime isn't someone who knows him, but he looks annoyingly and appropriately disbelieving of his antics. Oikawa can't help but wonder when was the last time someone had questioned him, had worried over him, had talked to him so freely like this.  
  
"…I used to play volleyball."  
  
Oikawa blinks again as he tries to read the other's expression. It's calm and serene – almost as though the insult-spouting medical student is gone and replaced by someone so… zen. Oikawa calls shenanigans on that.  
  
"I quit after high school though. I just didn't… see the appeal of doing it for so long."  
  
Oikawa sort of wants to tell Iwaizumi Hajime that he didn't ask for a tearful backstory nor did he ask for the other's feelings, experiences, dreams and aspirations on the stupid sport. He isn't some slum book that needs to be updated by such petty recollections. At the same time, Oikawa sort of wants to cross the distance between them and maybe share his own sob story or two about how volleyball is forever ruined for him, no thanks to the person who's now his sort-of friends-with-benefits-without-any-friendships-whatsoever. Oikawa hates feeling conflicted so he kind of hates this person in front of him who seems to insist on introducing discontent into his perfect life.  
  
Oikawa doesn't say any of his nasty thoughts though – because one look at Iwaizumi Hajime tells him that the other also looks bewildered by his own over-sharing. Yeah, he doesn't think that it's in Iwaizumi Hajime's personality to disclose personal matters without much prompting. Maybe it's just because of his lovely aura that makes him a target of strangers wanting to open up to him. Ugh, what a troublesome ability he has, if that's indeed the case.  
  
"…from the way you glared at the display and handled the ball, you probably played volleyball too, didn't you?"  
  
Oh.  
  
Oikawa hears-feels-sees red.  
  
It's not like anybody in this stupid, backwards town knows him and it's not like they can do anything to ruin his image if they choose to complain about his less-than-stellar personality. With that thought in mind, Oikawa huffs and walks out of the sports shop unceremoniously, because try as he might, he's still not over that stupid volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime is a stupid person with stupid eyebrows who stupidly seems to want to push all the wrong buttons on his temper.  
  
(Of course, at this point in time, if Oikawa had cared to look back, he would have seen the disconcerted expression on the other's face that spoke of nothing related to wanting to deliberately piss him off.)  
  
 **••• 03 – clinic**  
  
"Ugh, you're stalking me, huh?"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 27, world-famous supermodel, is used to being the center of attention – thrives on it, even – but even he has limits.  
  
"Pfft, you're full of yourself, aren't you?"  
  
"Just admit it—I know I'm irresistible and I won't press charges, but—"  
  
"Why the fuck would I stalk a dumbass like you?" Iwaizumi Hajime raises an eyebrow, just as he points to the ID pinned to his chest pocket.  
  
Oikawa doesn't need superhuman eyesight to know that it's an ID pointing to Iwaizumi as an intern in this clinic, but it's still a bit unnerving, especially since their last tense encounter. He's torn between demanding how the other can stay so cool and so ignorant of his celebrity status, just as he's relieved that the other man didn't seem to be holding a grudge over what happened last time. To be honest, he's more annoyed with himself for daring to feel so conflicted.  
  
"Hmm, I dunno~♪" Oikawa hums as their steps synchronize with each other, as they both make their way to the waiting area of the private clinic usually used by the elite. Maybe his presence here will actually alert Iwa-chan that he's dealing with someone worlds above him, then he doesn't have to continue listening to other call him a dumbass. "You tell me, Iwa-chan."  
  
Meeting again while in a posh private clinic in Tokyo has never crossed Oikawa's mind, but he's honestly glad that he saw Iwaizumi again. He doesn't have time examining that feeling too closely, because there's a packet of something sweet and familiar hitting him squarely in the middle of his forehead.  
  
"Ow, ow, ow, you're such a brute—" Oikawa rubs at the space between his eyebrows as he clutches at the packet of milk bread. He feels his eyes widen and he looks at Iwaizumi in wonder. How—?  
  
Iwaizumi looks sort of uncomfortable underneath his stare and Oikawa wonders if it's more effective because he's not wearing his ultimate disguise today. "…You looked like the type who would enjoy sweet things."  
  
Oikawa thinks that those words sound awfully like a pickup line from somewhere, but Iwaizumi doesn't look like the type of person who would bother with pick-up lines or with any types of romance at all.  
  
"You really are stalking me."  
  
"I'm not, dumbass!"  
  
"Aw, no need to be so shy—I told you, I know that I'm irresistible."  
  
"With that kind of attitude, you probably don't have friends, huh."  
  
"Now that's just mean. I'll have you know I have like, three thousand contacts on my phone, five thousand friends on Facebook, then—"  
  
"But you don't have friends, huh."  
  
"Quit saying that! I'm telling you—"  
  
"Do any of those 'friends' of yours know that you love milk bread?"  
  
"T-They should." Oikawa opens the packet of milk bread and sniffs it for anything that smells suspicious. The only smell that wafts to his nose is the blessed aroma of sweet milk. "I said that on one of my interviews—hmm, you probably read that, didn't you, Iwa-chan~♪"  
  
"Is that interview going to help me pass my exams next week?"  
  
"…Probably not?"  
  
"Then why the hell should I waste time reading that?"  
  
"You accuse me of not having any friends, but you're probably not any better, Iwa-chan!"  
  
Oikawa thinks of his fellow models and of Ushiwaka-chan's teammates – nah, they probably won't deign to spend any moment of their time with someone as brash and harsh as Iwaizumi. To be honest, Oikawa's kind of confused with himself for allowing this conversation to take this long – he's usually the type who can keep up his interested façade for five minutes at most, because most of the conversation surrounding him are either not very interesting (why would he want to hear about how their day was or how they did their hair, excuse them, he has enough to think about himself without having to care about them) or about things he already know (hearing about his greatness without much specifics tend to be repetitive after a while – he doesn't really care about how cool he looks, he'd rather know like what type of angle looks best on him, or does his pictures look better with the sepia background or the navy blue one or maybe—).  
  
"What with your grumpy face and not creative insults—"  
  
"Again, 'stupid dumbass' is good enough for you."  
  
"I'm really, truly hurt by your harsh words."  
  
"I'll probably believe you better if you didn't finish off that milk bread in less than two minutes."  
  
"I made sure to eat it while posing for the security cameras~★"  
  
"No need for the commentary – I'm right here."  
  
"…so, if I suddenly keel over and die, they'll know that it was you who poisoned me!"  
  
"If I wanted to kill you, I would do so with my own hands."  
  
"Uwaaaa, is that a threat? I guess they really weren't kidding when they mentioned that stalkers do tend to be violent after a while…"  
  
"I said I'm not stalking you!"  
  
"Who would admit their crimes that easily?!!"  
  
"Why you…!!!"  
  
Oikawa's not the type to get physically close with anyone – he's long over his phase of wanting a lot of physical contact with another person, and now that he thinks about it, he's probably turned off from that forever thanks to Ushiwaka-chan's propensity for only allowing those touches if he doesn't have a volleyball match the following day, if only because most of the touches between them always end up with someone getting fucked over, literally and figuratively – so he surprises himself yet again by not pushing Iwaizumi away when the other locks him to a headlock that's usually seen between long-time friends.  
  
He does end up shoving Iwaizumi away – or trying, at least – when he feels those hands ruffle his hair. After Ushiwaka-chan's check-up, they're still supposed to go grab an early dinner together, which means that he'll be sighted by people. He can't be sighted with mussed hair – that's going to be beyond horrible.  
  
Oikawa takes a step away from Iwaizumi, noticing that this clinic's staff is really discreet, because nobody even stops and gawks at their antics. They really live up to their promise of giving their clientele privacy. Of course, just as Oikawa's about to tease Iwaizumi about treating him like they're close friends, he stops as he registers the look of faint realization on Iwaizumi's face.  
  
"…you started playing volleyball again?"  
  
Almost guiltily, Oikawa's gaze snaps to his hands, where new calluses have formed. He feels the tips of his ears burn and for some reason, his eyes sting with some undefined emotion. Not even Ushiwaka-chan knows that he's started playing volleyball against the wall of his penthouse suite. It's been years since he last touched a ball – he's not counting, he isn't, he isn't – and he's starting to re-learn the feel of the ball on his fingertips and he misses most of his tosses, but—  
  
"It's just for fun."  
  
Oikawa really needs to stop talking with this Iwaizumi Hajime who keeps on ruining his perfect life so easily like this.  
  
Stomping his feet childishly, Oikawa walks back to the room he saw Ushiwaka-chan last. He didn't want to stay there because he dislikes being left alone in cramped spaces, but anywhere should be better than being stuck with a person who so effortlessly questions his life without even meaning to.  
  
(Of course, at this point in time, Oikawa didn't understand the implications of a not-that-strange stranger ruining his perfect life so easily yet.)  
  
 **••• 04 – bar**  
  
"Ugh, I can't believe Ushiwaka-chan's so mean to me…"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 27, world-famous supermodel, is someone who takes his work seriously. He knows that a huge portion of his stellar reputation is his drive to finish a project no matter what it takes, but there are sometimes when that quality of his makes him question his life choices.  
  
He hurried back from that grueling photo shoot for the ten-page fashion spread – not only because he would like to surprise Ushiwaka-chan (it's rare that he and Ushiwaka-chan are both in the same city recently), but also because he wants to enjoy some time off. In true Ushiwaka-chan fashion though, not only did the two of them fail to meet up, but Oikawa managed to score himself with an infamous stony scolding.  
  
"Hmph, it's just the usual victory… do they even need to celebrate each win? Like, ugh, it's not like it's anything new…"  
  
Oikawa isn't that familiar with this area because he hasn't had a chance to explore this part of Tokyo yet – he dislikes travelling by himself and he dislikes travelling while surrounded by bodyguards and busybodies even more. Thankfully, he's wearing his trusty disguise and he didn't bring any huge amounts of cash with him, so it's not like he's in any great danger of getting mugged. His vision is swimming a little bit though, because he's kind of entering every bar he passes by and pointing to whichever drink his finger lands on.  
  
After five or so bars that he has entered, he ends up walking into – or trying to walk into, at least – a more subdued bar with wooden walls and lots of college students, from the sounds of chants and dares about passing the exams and what-not. It's not like he'll lose anything if he passes on this bar – it doesn't look like it has anything up to his tastes anyway – but before he can try to squeeze himself back out of the door and into the cool evening breeze, a huge group of bar-goers block his way out.  
  
Oikawa thinks about waiting for this storm of students to finally make their way inside the bar, but he spots a familiar – extremely common, it's just that his memory is just too perfect, even when tipsy – crown of spiky hair that looks just the slightest bit droopy after a few moments of getting practically manhandled into entering the bar.  
  
"Come oooooon, Iwaizumi-san!"  
"You never come drink with us!"  
"It's our final year! Come ooon!"  
"You should treat us for acing that test!"  
"Shouldn't we be the ones treating him for that?"  
"Doesn't matter as long as I get free booze somehow!"  
  
Oikawa almost laughs at the terrified expression on Iwaizumi's face – and then he almost stomps his feet in annoyance, because one, their group is taking forever to get inside and the doorway isn't the biggest of things so they'll need to actually get inside before he can move out, and two, Iwaizumi's awareness for anything related to Oikawa's wonderful self is shitty at best and just plain rude at worst.  
  
He makes a snap decision then – something that he rarely does, because he's the sort who'd prefer to examine and cross-examine his decisions in great detail, with a pros-and-cons table lovingly debated over inside his head – if only because it would be hilarious to have Iwaizumi indebted to him, in a way, and also because it would be more fun if he's going to sulk at someone who would actually respond naturally to his complaints over Ushiwaka-chan. Also, he can almost imagine the taste of Iwaizumi's despair when he realizes that he's going to have to be nicer to the lovely Oikawa-san because of the (unsolicited) favor he's about to do for him.  
  
"I-W-A-C-H-A-N~~~★"  
  
Oikawa takes great care not to break his façade – but oh, it's so tempting, with the way that Iwaizumi's face looks like his ears just bled spontaneously from the sound of his false falsetto – and he braves the crowd of college students to practically hang himself by Iwaizumi's stiff shoulders. "I haven't seen you for so long~! Wow, I almost didn't recognize you without your bald head!"  
  
Thick silence descends upon their group –by experience, Oikawa knows that a part of it is a moment of silence devoted to appreciate his gorgeousness, but he also knows that a huge part of the reason for their sudden silence is the dreadful imagination of Iwaizumi having a bald head – oh, he really needs to keep it in, but he can feel his gut trembling as laughter threatens to escape.  
  
"Oh, it's you, dumbass! I haven't heard from you since the time you got admitted to the psych ward? How's it going now?"  
  
Oikawa bites his lip to contain his chuckles – but really, that's just rude. He's too pretty to be forced to wear baggy white clothes and strapped into straightjackets – but maybe that's Iwaizumi's confession that he's into bondage or something – but eww, Oikawa isn't interested at all, nope, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't.  
  
"Let's catch up—" Oikawa lets his sentence hang, because while he's here to spin scandalous tales that will harass Iwaizumi for the next couple of weeks, sure, he's also here to offer an out for the Iwaizumi who looks like he's sincerely wishing for an apocalypse in lieu of drinking with his fellow interns-classmates-whatever-they-are-he-doesn't-care. Oikawa's not the type to force someone to accompany him though, as funny things can potentially get, so he's kind enough to give Iwaizumi the reins on whether he wants to take this offer or not.  
  
"—great idea, dumbass!"  
  
Oikawa releases the breath he's subconsciously holding.  
  
"Mmm, let's go, Iwa-chan~♪"  
  
The two of them manage to finally walk out of the cramped bar after a few more moments spent shuffling together. Oikawa doesn't let go of Iwaizumi's shoulders until they're a few paces away from the bar though.  
  
"Wow, you're really such an antisocial grumpypants, huh?"  
  
"Shut up, dumbass."  
  
"Hey~ is that how you show your gratitude to your savior?"  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about, you moron?"  
  
"One – congrats on learning a new insult. Two – hello, I saved you from your friends wanting to get poor Iwa-chan drunk as a horse."  
  
"Pffft, so you finally admit that I have friends?"  
  
Oikawa feels his cheeks warm – a motion that he mentally insists is only because he's been through a couple of bars already and mixing different types of drinks makes one drunker than usual. He knows he has a perfect memory when it comes to certain things – but to think that even the brutish Iwa-chan remembers their last conversation is… kind of satisfying.  
  
Swallowing the chuckle that almost escapes him – he's been laughing a lot lately… must be because he's surrounded by more clowns recently, huh – Oikawa ignores that quip easily and continues from his statement: "And you already look uglier than a horse~~~"  
  
"I'll kick you in the shins."  
  
"You wouldn't dare—ow!"  
  
"Will you look at that. Guess I dared to kick you then?"  
  
"Ughhh, not even Ushiwaka-chan dares to hurt me, Iwa-chan, you brute."  
  
Iwaizumi only pauses for a moment, before saying: "Ushiwaka—"  
  
"—is a meanie."  
  
Oikawa's not stupid and he doesn't think Iwaizumi is either, despite his words otherwise, so he knows that the other has already realized who this 'Ushiwaka-chan' is.  
  
"Why, did he call you a stupid dumbass too?"  
  
Thankfully, Iwaizumi – as brutish as he may be – apparently also knows how to get a hint, playing along with ignoring certain glaring parts of their conversation as they both walk aimlessly around.  
  
"Ushiwaka-chan wouldn't dare."  
  
"If I were you, I would be careful with that word in the future, dumbass."  
  
"Nah, it's just you who's like that."  
  
"I would think it should be more natural for people to do what they say."  
  
"Ahahaha, how cute, Iwa-chan~★" Oikawa doesn't think he knows anyone else like that – except for maybe Ushiwaka-chan, who's painfully honest, with a lot of emphasis on pain. "You sound like those little kids who wish for world peace."  
  
"You say that, but you seem to be the type to believe in fairies and aliens."  
  
"Why would you think that?! Fairies are for little girls."  
  
"…But you have no qualms about aliens."  
  
"Eh? But didn't they discover some UFO crash sites already?"  
  
"…at this point, I'm not even sure if you're just shitting me or if you really believe—"  
  
"Are you saying that aliens aren't real?!"  
  
"They aren't." Iwaizumi's face looks like he's holding in a laugh as well. "Dumbass."  
  
"RUDE. Let me show you some proof—"  
  
"How?"  
  
"—but we should drink first, I think."  
  
"I didn't escape a group of drunks only to get drunk with a stupid drunk."  
  
"I'm not stupid! You're stupid!"  
  
"What a convincing argument."  
  
"I knoooow, right?"  
  
"I was sarcastic."  
  
"MEANIE."  
  
Oikawa drags them to the direction of the more posh bars that he's heard of, but Iwaizumi's apparently more well-versed with this neighborhood, because he staunchly refuses to be dragged to the other side of the road.  
  
"Let's go driiiiiiiink, Iwa-chan~"  
  
"Didn't you drink enough?"  
  
"Hey~! This level of drunkness is no problem for me, y'know."  
  
"No drunk admits their drunkenness."  
  
"Let's go drink at Enamel, Iwa-chan!"  
  
"Hell no." Iwaizumi crosses his arms over his chest as they reach a standstill. Oikawa squints at the medical student in front of him, the visage only illuminated by the streetlights and some of the lights from the nearby establishments. "I'm not about to blow my entire bank account on a night of drinking with an idiot."  
  
"Aren't you being kind of assuming there, Iwa-chan? Who said I want to spend my entire night drinking with someone like you?"  
  
Oikawa isn't really the type of person who regrets his words – he has long perfected the art of knowing exactly what to say on any and all situations, in order to achieve the effect he wants – but he bites his lip and hesitates when he watches the neutral expression on Iwaizumi's face not even falter for the slightest bit, before the shorter man starts to walk away deliberately from him. To be honest, irritation is the first thought that springs into Oikawa's mind – because hello, how dare he walk out on Oikawa? But then again, that impulse is overridden by regret, because no matter what he said, he surprisingly finds interacting with Iwaizumi liberating, even if the other's harshness can be off-putting sometimes.  
  
"Eh? Hey~~~ Iwa-chan~~~!"  
  
Iwaizumi doesn't look back or pause in his strides.  
  
Oikawa feels his breath stutter from within his chest.  
  
Looking at another person's back is unfamiliar to him, because he's almost always the one who walks away from a situation first. He's the first person who walked away from his first ever relationship; he's the first person who turned his back against playing volleyball professionally; he's the one who sprinted away from the Ushiwaka-chan who's too busy for him most of the time. He's not used to be the one left behind, literally or figuratively.  
  
"Hey!!!"  
  
Iwaizumi still doesn't look back.  
  
There are some passersby that look at him curiously.  
  
Oikawa knows that he can just walk away and resume bar-hopping. He can definitely find a companion or two or ten. He can definitely buy all of the drinks offered by the bars here. He doesn't have to insist on drinking with Iwaizumi. But it feels kind of like defeat and Oikawa resents that.  
  
It's not even a snap decision, because his brain just stops and his feet just moves and his voice just screams the other's name.  
  
"IWA-CHAAAAAN!!!"  
  
Oikawa doesn't stop dragging the syllables of the other's nickname until he reaches Iwaizumi and successfully locks the other into place. He slams the other beside the wall of a brightly-lit convenience store. He takes a moment to catch his breath and definitely doesn't lose his breath again when he looks up and sees the other's expression find the perfect balance between amusement and indifference.  
  
"Stop yelling, dumbass."  
  
"But you wouldn't wait for me."  
  
Iwaizumi's lips twitch. "I was going to buy us drinks."  
  
"…oh."  
  
"Yes, 'oh'. Now let go of me or else we'll make the storeowner think we're suspicious people."  
  
Oikawa laughs. "Nah, they'll just think that you're trying to mug me."  
  
"How about I punch you to make things more realistic?"  
  
"I'm anti-violence!!!"  
  
Iwaizumi's raised eyebrow tells him that the other doesn't care one whit about that.  
  
Oikawa takes a step back and drags the two of them inside the convenience store, where Iwaizumi hits him various times whenever he tries sneaking in some things to their basket. It's way too surreal – if someone had told Oikawa earlier today that he'll be out travelling around Tokyo's streets on foot while chugging along some canned beers in the presence of a no-name medical student, he would have laughed at them and kindly asked them to have their heads checked. Yet here he is, instead of doing his detox routine after a grueling day, instead of having sex with a victorious Ushiwaka-chan, instead of doing anything a normal 'Oikawa' would have done.  
  
It's too surreal and Oikawa's enjoying every second of this.  
  
His thoughts jumble and cross and short-circuit and this isn't the normal Oikawa at all, but it's more than fine right now.  
  
Oikawa tells Iwaizumi about his thwarted plan of finishing up his photo shoot so he can go back and surprise Ushiwaka-chan. He tells him about the stony scolding delivered in great monotone over a one-minute phone call. He tells him about how they're going to drink on a high-class bar next time, none of this DIY-drinking party in a park, surrounded by plastic bags of beer cans. He tells him—  
  
…  
  
By the time Oikawa regains his senses, his eyes are heavy with fatigue and his cheek is sore from being pressed against a wooden table for a long time. He blinks and spots the plastic bags of empty beer cans resting on the trash bin a couple of feet away. He yawns and his mouth feels strange and his tongue tastes foul and he blinks again as he witnesses the unbelievable sight of one Iwaizumi Hajime flipping through his notes seriously.  
  
Instead of a 'good morning' or a comment about him falling asleep unceremoniously, Oikawa grins in triumph. "I knew you had your notes inside your backpack."  
  
"You're still drooling."  
  
Oikawa immediately touches his face and feels something sticky. He wipes at his cheeks and chin discreetly.  
  
"Am so not."  
  
"Suit yourself," Iwaizumi comments with a small quirk of his lips.  
  
"…are you actually a homeless person who lives on park benches?"  
  
Oikawa laughs when Iwaizumi's eyes roll so hard to the point it's almost painful to watch.  
  
"I didn't know where you lived and since someone was not-drunk enough to pass out and be a burden…"  
  
"You could have just left me all alone here, Iwa-chan. I'm sure I could have managed." Well, he's actually not too sure about that, but it's best to not question his abilities at this kind of situation.  
  
"Why, so you could draw awful sketches of my face and start a manhunt so you can whine at me? No thanks."  
  
"Hey! I won't do that to you, Iwa-chan." Oh, he'll do something more sinister.  
  
"Pfft, you so would."  
  
Iwaizumi's looking at him appraisingly over his stack of papers.  
  
Oikawa gives in and admits, "Well, yeah, you're right. Ugh."  
  
"Wipe your drool."  
  
"Hmph, so does this mean that you watched all over the sleeping beauty all night long~? I'm so touched!"  
  
"I studied while a certain someone drooled all over the place."  
  
"No need to be shy, Iwa-chan! Feel free to admit that you were bewitched by my lovely face~★"  
  
Iwaizumi just rolls his eyes again, ignoring him easily after that.  
  
And yet – and yet – Oikawa still feels more alive than ever.  
  
(Of course, at this point in time, Oikawa hasn't fully realized what it meant for someone to stay with him and watch over him, in a way nobody else has done.)  
  
 **••• 05 – little tykes' volleyball school**  
  
"Ugh, I can't believe I got roped into this again…"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 27, world-famous supermodel, really isn't meant for areas surrounded by shrubbery and trees, because his carefully-styled hair acts like a doom magnet for leaves and twigs so easily. Yet here he is, on his way back to his mother's home after sending Takeru over to his volleyball school.  
  
For some reason, his family seems to think that just because he won the Best Setter Award in junior high and high school, it means that Takeru will also manifest the same drive and talent for sports. Time and time again, he has attempted to explain to them that his awards were mostly because the awards committee back then didn't have much choice but to pick their choice winners from Shiratorizawa. If he wasn't on that team, it's very possible that he wouldn't have been granted those awards. As usual from his parents and aunts, they didn't listen to him, so whatever. He's stuck babysitting his bratty nephew whenever he visits and shuttling him off to his volleyball school every weekend has become an additional chore.  
  
Lost in his thoughts as he is, he admittedly isn't paying more attention to his surroundings, so it's not surprising that he ends up bumping into someone as he ponders over his quarter-life crisis.  
  
"Sorr—"  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You're really stalking me, aren't you, Iwa-chan?"  
  
"Apologize properly first, shittykawa."  
  
"Mmm, nope! I don't wanna!"  
  
"What are you, five?"  
  
"Excuse you, I'm forever young and pure."  
  
"If you get struck by lightning for your lies, I'm going to laugh at you. A lot."  
  
"Yeah, Iwa-chan, go ahead and do that so that they'll think you're crazy."  
  
Iwaizumi shrugs, as though the thought of being labeled crazy is no big deal to him, as long as he gets to laugh at Oikawa. How totally rude. And in true Iwaizumi fashion, he ignores Oikawa's previous words and asks, "And what are you doing here?"  
  
"If you really must know—"  
  
"Nah, I was just trying to be polite."  
  
"—the lovely Oikawa-san has been handed the duty of escorting my younger nephew to his volleyball training school."  
  
"Stuck with babysitting duty, huh? Does your family live here?"  
  
"My mother's side, actually… we were going to live here when I was young, but my dad's work was nearer to the other side of city, so we ended up living there instead."  
  
Iwaizumi makes a thoughtful hum as he listens to Oikawa's words. Their footsteps have automatically synchronized with each other's, as they make their way towards the road.  
  
Oikawa's phone is a heavy weight on his pants' pocket, but he's here on a holiday, so he's not obligated to check his phone for messages from his manager. He's also definitely not obligated to check for any messages from Ushiwaka-chan, especially since the other made it crystal clear that he was not to be disturbed during his tune-up process for an upcoming match.  
  
"Hmm, where are you taking me, Iwa-chan?"  
  
"Why, did you have to be somewhere?"  
  
"Well, you probably don't know this, but someone as amazing as Oikawa-san is veryyyy busy y'know~★"  
  
"Pfft, you didn't look too busy wandering around earlier."  
  
"Hey!!! I'll have you know that I'm so very wanted by a lot of people right now."  
  
"You probably pissed them off and so they're out for your blood."  
  
"So not true~" Oikawa sing-songs as he walks side-by-side Iwaizumi, his phone silent in his pocket. "But seriously, where are you taking me???"  
  
"We have a junior high reunion later and I'm meeting with someone before going there."  
  
"Hm, which junior high?"  
  
"Kitagawa Daiichi."  
  
Oikawa falters a little bit in his stride, but he covers it up by laughing loudly. "Hey~ I know someone annoying from that school!"  
  
"You really are not the best judge for someone's annoyingness, dumbass."  
  
"But Tobio-chan is annoying!" Oikawa protests with a huff – a protest that turns to a squawk as both of them finally reach their destination – which so happens to be an indoor volleyball court on the other intersection away from Takeru's volleyball school. "Ehhhh – what the hell are you doing here, Tobio-chan?!!!"  
  
"…Tobio-chan?" Iwaizumi's raised eyebrows are ignored in favor of Oikawa pointing accusingly at the eyesore – literally and figuratively – in front of him.  
  
"…O-Oikawa-san."  
"It's the Grand King!!!!!"  
  
Oikawa feels a bit faint and he steps sideways to lean against Iwaizumi's sturdier form. Did Iwaizumi know about their connection? Was this planned? Was Iwaizumi really stalking him then? Why are Tobio-chan and his chibi partner here? What the hell is going on???  
  
"Oh. So you guys know each other already?" Iwaizumi asks flatly, as though having all of them meet here in this intersection is nothing too distressing. The only thing this scenario needs to turn to the absolute worst is Ushiwaka-chan suddenly materializing in-between them – something that thankfully will not have a chance of happening, because Ushiwaka-chan is busy somewhere far, far away.  
  
"Y-Yes, Iwaizumi-senpai. K-Karasuno faced Shiratorizawa a number of times before." Kageyama Tobio – the adorably annoying genius setter from Karasuno High School – with his blatant disregard for society conventions and tendency to favor blunt and sometimes-downright-insensitive words – is actually being very respectful, which is sort of horrifying. Oikawa shoots a look at the redhead chibi who's always by Kageyama's side and feels a smidgen of comfort at knowing that he's not only one terrified of this transformation. Oikawa now looks at Iwaizumi in a new light – what kind of person is he, to be able to tame this annoying Tobio-chan?  
  
…Also, did nobody ever tell Tobio-chan that his idea of a disguise – or casual clothing – or whatever that oversized-trenchcoat and huge sunglasses combo is supposed to be – is atrocious as best and an abomination at worst?  
  
"Is that so? I don't remember facing their team during junior high."  
  
"Well, we didn't have much of a chance to advance back then, didn't we?"  
  
Hinata Shouyou – the so-called 'Strongest Decoy' of Karasuno, and now, of the Japanese Olympic Team – butts in and circles Kageyama like he's observing a wild animal. Oikawa notes that it's like the other even became shorter since their last encounter – probably because geniuses like Kageyama are not affected by normal body processes and still continue to grow taller despite being an adult already. "WOOOOW, is this Kageyama being humble that I hear? That's so weird!!!"  
  
"Don't say weird, idiot Hinata!"  
  
"They're as lively as always," Oikawa comments with a grimace, rubbing his hands over his forearms. He feels the calluses on his hands and he winces. Seeing these two again… it seems that it's not only Iwaizumi who's dead-set on making him question himself recently.  
  
"Why don't we play a mini-game? We've still got time before the meet-up, right, Kageyama?"  
  
"Ossu! …but it's just the three of us?"  
  
"…it can be a two-on-two?"  
  
"Eh? Is the Grand King's knee all healed up already?!! If that's the case, then why don't you play anymore??? I wanna play against the Grand King again—"  
  
Today is getting stranger and stranger, because it's the normally-insensitive Tobio-chan who stops the boisterous Hinata from saying anything more. Tobio-chan's expression is slightly apologetic, as though he feels pity for the Oikawa who he can easily defeat if not for Oikawa having the super-ace on his side of the net, as though he feels disappointment at not having Oikawa as one of his opponents in college and in the professional league, as though he can understand the frustration of a not-genius like Oikawa.  
  
Iwaizumi is looking at Oikawa – Oikawa is looking straight ahead, his head held high – Oikawa can feel the gaze burning holes through his walls. He doesn't meet Iwaizumi's gaze, because he's not sure what he'll find there. Instead, he stares blankly at where Tobio-chan and Hinata are arguing in very loud whispers, Hinata waving his limbs around like a hyperactive child and avoiding Tobio-chan's violent but weirdly affectionate ways of silencing him.  
  
"…it's fine as long as it's just a light game."  
  
Oikawa realizes that the words came from his own mouth a moment too late. Tobio-chan is looking at him in half-surprise and half-excitement, while Hinata is just pure enthusiasm at playing volleyball with a person he thinks is a worthy opponent. Iwaizumi's gaze doesn't lessen in intensity and Oikawa practically forces himself to not flinch when he finally meets that stare dead-on. Oikawa tries a smile that he hopes isn't a grimace that ruins his beautiful face.  
  
"…Stop staring at me, Iwa-chan~ let's go and play a light game~★"  
  
Oikawa Tooru is a world-famous supermodel. He's used to acting in front of other people – of his fans – of his production team – of Ushiwaka-chan – of his parents – of his previous teammates – of himself. Retreating to his mind and acting on auto-pilot is one of his favorite methods of how to spend time doing things he dislikes. This isn't an unusual situation for him.  
  
He keeps his mind purposely blank as he practically bounces on his heels as their odd group enters the indoor volleyball court. He keeps his mind purposely blank as his knee twinges when he tries to do his usual jump serve, his body still remembering the thousands of serves he practiced daily for every day of his junior high, still tuned to the hundreds of spikes he practiced daily for every day of his high school, still recalls the feeling of a hundred failures for every day of his first month during his first year of college when he ended up calling it quits, still thinks about the way Ushiwaka-chan has told him that day that he isn't a volleyball genius.  
  
He doesn't pay attention to the words surrounding them.  
  
"Eeep, the Grand King's scary when he's super-focused! I'm getting excited!!! Aren't you glad, Kageyama?! Hey, do you think he'll play volleyball seriously again? Hey, stop ignoring me, Kageyama!!!"  
  
He doesn't pay attention to anything but the feel of the ball against his fingers as his traitorous body moves in auto-pilot, as his traitorous hands goes into setting motions without any thought, as his traitorous heart beats extremely loud when the ball he sets to Iwaizumi fits the other's palm perfectly for a quick strike.  
  
He doesn't need to pay attention, because that will mean that he's not doing something he dislikes.  
  
He doesn't—  
  
His knee doesn't hurt at all, doesn't throb at all, doesn't shake the littlest bit when he exerts more effort than necessary.  
  
He isn't enjoying this match.  
  
He isn't, he isn't, he isn't—  
  
He—  
  
He doesn't stand a chance against the genius setter and his supernaturally quick spiker.  
  
He shouldn't, because he isn't a genius.  
  
He shouldn't, but a quick glance to the score tally – since when was there something like that? since when was there spectators watching them? – tells him that they're winning against the favorite combination in Japan's national team.  
  
He shouldn't, because he's not enjoying playing this light game with Iwaizumi at all.  
  
He isn't, he isn't, he isn't—  
  
He shouldn't, because he has left volleyball behind many years ago, because he has injured himself from overwork, because he has failed to grab true victory even once.  
  
"—Oi."  
  
Oikawa snaps out of his trance immediately.  
  
(this shouldn't be happening, because he's had years of practice with this acting, because there's no way that he'll lose his focus just by Iwaizumi's gruff voice and rough hands grabbing his arms.)  
  
"…snap out of it, dumbass. Your phone's been ringing non-stop." Iwaizumi brings said phone close to Oikawa's eyes, almost making him cross-eyed from the nearness. "…geez, you have such shitty taste in ringtones. You're so stupid that your ringtones are just you yapping away. Dumbass."  
  
(this shouldn't be happening at all, because he's content with his life now, he really is, he should be.)  
  
"Is dumbass the only insult that you know, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa replies blankly, his mind processing the missed call and the subsequent text messages from his nephew, demanding that he fetch him already.  
  
"Want me to punch you, shittykawa?"  
  
(this shouldn't be happening at all.)  
  
"I need to go," Oikawa blinks and pockets his phone – when did he give it to Iwa-chan, anyway? – before slowly walking away from Tobio-chan and his partner, from Iwa-chan.  
  
Iwaizumi's eyes are serious.  
  
"We should play sometime again. Despite being a dumbass, you're a very good setter."  
  
Oikawa's mouth twists.  
  
"Hmph."  
  
Without another word, he walks away.  
  
(Of course, at this point, Oikawa has never quite understood what it meant for him to feel an odd sort of frustration at the thought that things would have been very different if it was Iwa-chan who he met all those years ago, instead of Ushiwaka-chan.)  
  
••• **to be continued**  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading and commenting! so, there's quite a bit of angst on oikawa's side, because i think oikawa has a lot of insecurity issues (this is the guy who wins best setter but doesn't think volleyball is part of his selling point, after all) and without iwa-chan, i think he would be in a very bad and insecure place. :|
> 
> next chapter will start after a timeskip. also, teaser for the next part(s):
> 
> "I want to keep on playing volleyball forever with Iwa-chan!"  
> "Don't be stupid, you can't play volleyball when you're an old man, dumbass."  
> "…ahahaha, do you realize that you just basically agreed to be with me forever? Tsk, and you call me an idiot…"  
> "...got a problem with that?"  
> "Eh?"  
> "I said: do you have a problem with me staying forever with you?"


	3. 06 – coffee shop

**••• 06 – coffee shop**

"Ugh, it's hot…"  
  
Oikawa Tooru, 28, world-famous supermodel is wealthy enough to afford paying a servant or two to fetch coffee for him, but there's some rustic charm in actually donning on a disguise that he hasn't used in a year (he isn't counting, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't) and heading out to a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that caters to men in suits and women in four-inch heels that practically ooze terse business.  
  
While he's only here for some work – the Christmas-themed fashion show is apparently not good enough unless it happens when the designer's horoscope has great compatibility with Jupiter or something, leading to some delays in production – he has ventured out a couple of times to grab a quick cup of coffee and some snacks. He really isn't the type to explore his surroundings on his own, but he's slowly recognizing the appeal of actually going outside instead of holing himself up in his hotel suite or smiling at the cameras.  
  
He almost calls it fate – because nothing else can be crueler – when he bumps into a not-familiar-at-all man right outside the coffee shop. Oikawa thinks that his only consolation is that he already finished off his cup of coffee before this unfortunate meeting, or else, he would have spilled it all over himself.  
  
"—oh."  
  
"…Oikawa."  
  
Oikawa adjusts the oversized sunglasses on his face. Despite the darker tint of his glasses, Iwaizumi still looks pretty much the same since the last time they saw each other. Oikawa notes that the other's arms look bulkier, if that's even possible. There's an air about him that wasn't there when they last met and the polite words are at the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't say them, because he might end up saying something else. So he uncharacteristically keeps quiet, waiting for the other to pierce the tense silence that has settled over them.  
  
"…I've always been scolded by my mom and my teachers and hell, everyone I ever knew, that I always looked gruff and angry. That I always said things so straightforwardly and bluntly that I hurt the people I spoke with."  
  
Oikawa feels himself freeze – it's just the weather, just the weather, just the weather. He blames the snow from earlier this morning for rooting him in place. This is a mistake. He shouldn't listen to this. He's spent the past year trying to forget Iwaizumi Hajime's existence, trying to ignore the cracks in his life that he has thought he had perfectly covered, trying to not think about regrets. He shouldn't listen to Iwaizumi's words, because he'll lose himself all over again. He's not sure he can manage to find and rebuild himself if it happens again.  
  
"…but I've also been told to never apologize for something I believed in." Iwaizumi's looking at him like he's been waiting to say these words for years. Oikawa hates the frozen ground underneath his feet. Oikawa hates the way that despite everything, Iwaizumi's gaze burns brighter still. "So I won't apologize for telling you that you're a very good setter. I don't care if you didn't believe me then, but—"  
  
"What are you saying, Iwaizumi? It's been so long so I'm afraid that I don't know—"  
  
"—I won't let you run away just like that." Unwavering, Iwaizumi continues his words, much like an undeterred and unfettered anchor amidst a hurricane. "You won 'Best Setter' for six years, how can you ever let yourself think you're not good? You love volleyball, you love doing what you like, so why do you not like believing in yourself, you dumbass?!"  
  
Oikawa thinks they must look like idiots to bystanders – two grown men – one a world-famous model, the other a doctor – arguing about things that had happened so very long ago. His lips twist against his will and he doesn't want his life to be wrecked all over again – he isn't regretting anything, he isn't, he isn't, he isn't—  
  
"Stop stalking me, Iwaizumi Hajime."  
  
"I said I won't let you run away – not even from yourself!"  
  
Oikawa eyes the way Iwaizumi's fists are trembling by his sides, probably itching to grab him and punch him maybe, but holding back because this is still a fairly public place and he wouldn't want to get into any trouble so soon after getting the license for medical practice, would he?  
  
"It's none of your business."  
  
Oikawa finally obtains the strength to walk away. He wills his legs to move faster. He's been holing himself up in his suite, barring entrance from mostly everyone, but it's not like he's just spending his time being a couch potato, so he should be stronger and faster than this. He should be. Or else, Iwaizumi will catch him and—  
  
"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Iwaizumi roars, attracting a larger group of bystanders, despite this being a fairly busy business area, with employees milling around with their head bowed down and thinking about their own personal circumstances too much to pay attention to anyone else. "WE'RE FRIENDS, AREN'T WE?! OF COURSE IT'S MY PROBLEM TOO!"  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
This isn't happening.  
  
This is a mistake.  
  
This is bad.  
  
Oikawa clutches at his heart that's pounding dizzyingly inside his chest.  
  
He needs to leave.  
  
He isn't ready for this.  
  
He isn't, he isn't, he isn't.  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
"—oi! Don't you shut me out like that again—!"  
  
…  
  
…  
  
…  
  
Oikawa's stronger and faster than this.  
  
Oikawa doesn't consider this running away.  
  
Oikawa's just preserving himself and his life, that's all.  
  
(Of course, at this point, Oikawa just hopes that he'll also be strong enough to keep himself together from that merciless assault against his walls.)

••• **to be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! I've been swamped with work and any time I don't spend on work has been consumed by Magi (and Judar and Hakuryuu), so;;;; I think I'm spending some time away from Haikyuu!! to prepare myself for the end of the Aobajousai VS Karasuno match T____T Anyway, this part has been sitting in my computer for a couple of weeks now, since I wanted to post this along with four more scenes, but since I've delayed this long enough and since this looks like a good "bridge" chapter, I'm posting it now!
> 
> That said, this was a bit angsty - but rest assured that they won't be fighting too long. I think they're still very much in sync despite not knowing each other since they were kids, so they can't fight and stay made at each other for so long. 
> 
> The next part(s) will come in a week (or less) :D Comments/thoughts/etc are always welcome!
> 
> also, feel free to see my [tumblr](athina39.tumblr.com) and/or look at my [iwaoi wips](http://athina39.tumblr.com/post/101616303705/more-iwaoi-wips). :3


	4. 07 - fashion shoot

••• **07 – fashion shoot**

"Ugh, this is so uncool…"

Oikawa Tooru, 28, world-famous supermodel, isn't someone who should be caught flailing about gracelessly.

Despite that kind of pressure from the eyes of not only his production team, his fellow models from rival companies, his prospective clients and sponsors, of the entire world, he's now on the floor, collapsed under the heap of the clothes he's supposed to make critics drool about and commoners flock to the stores to buy samples of.

Oikawa curses himself as silently as he can, as his vision blurs and his leg throbs painfully. The only consolation here is that at least, he's still backstage and he still has about five minutes to get a grip on himself and on his legs, because this is the opening show for the fashion show and he cannot, for whatever reason, _miss this_.

He's getting too old for modeling standards and he's not getting any younger and he's promised himself he's never going for unnatural transplants in an effort to keep up with the demands for the fresher generation. He needs this. He needs to be here, because he's starting to get fewer offers and he cannot afford to fall here.

There are probably a hundred and one voices surrounding him – he recognizes some English and French, ugh, there's that asshole who speaks in a mixture of German-Italian-Spanish-Russian, as though being an omniglot is enough to compensate for his douchebaggery, and then there's his production team firing panicky questions at him about his condition. Oikawa tries to smile and stand upright, but his lips are frozen, his legs won't cooperate and his body just feels _pain_.

Volleyball has ruined everything for him, yet again – much like he had ruined his knees over that one silly sport before, much like that injury continues to haunt him even now.

He has ruined everything yet again.

Nothing could have been crueler than falling because of something that he should have already long left behind.

All things considered, it doesn't really surprise him much to hear a familiar gruff voice rise above the cacophony of chaotic words, practically reverberating throughout the noisy backstage and rattling from deep within his bones: "You're such a fucking dumbass!"

It doesn't really surprise him.

It _should_ surprise him.

But—

Oikawa finally manages to wrestle his lips to form a half-smile.

"You're really such a stupid stalker, Iwa-chan."

Through his blurry vision, he sees Iwa-chan muscle his way inside the protective semi-circle formed by his manager and his make-up artist. He feels the other's warm hands grab him by the shoulders, feels the other guide him to sit up slowly, with surprising gentleness. He feels the other's fingers tentatively touch his swollen right knee and Oikawa instead feels the pain shoot up inside his chest. Like everything else that Iwa-chan does, it doesn't make sense.

He doesn't want it to make sense.

Iwa-chan flicks him soundly on his forehead, making his eyes water from the ache. "Your legs were wobbling when you walked out on me the other day."

Oikawa thinks that it's very unfortunate that nobody has ever taught Iwaizumi that you don't come to the rescue of someone who just walked out on you. You just don't. Not unless— _no_ , you just really, really, really don't.

"I didn't think you'd be such a busybody, _doctor_."

Oikawa thinks that it's very unfortunate that studying medicine has apparently fried Iwaizumi's mind enough to confuse him about their relationship – they're definitely _not friends_ – not when Oikawa has spent an entire year not even contacting the other, not when Oikawa has walked out on him and his stupid statements about things that he shouldn't meddle with, not when Oikawa has done his part in making sure to drive the other away.

They're not _friends_.

They aren't, they aren't, they aren't.

This doesn't make sense.

This doesn't, this doesn't, this doesn't.

Oikawa thinks that it's very unfortunate that—

"You're an idiot who doesn't think at all." Iwaizumi retorts gruffly even as he continues to gently massage the swollen area. He pauses to bark out a command or two to the people surrounding him. Oikawa almost pouts because his assistants hardly follow his orders without a complaint, but they're probably too intimidated by Iwaizumi to do anything but obey. "What the hell have you been doing, putting more pressure on an injury that didn't heal properly?"

Oikawa inwardly blames the three espresso shots he drank earlier today for making him feel twitchy and nervous, for loosening his tongue. "Didn't you tell me to pursue my dreams? To dream big and believe in my wondrous self???"

"I never said that, you smartass!"

But Iwaizumi's smiling the tiniest bit.

Oikawa thinks about the past year, the days and nights he had spent practicing his jump serve in the confines of his penthouse suite that has been mostly cleared to remove breakable furniture.

"…How did you manage to find me, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa finally asks when it's clear that Iwaizumi's not going to leave him be and allow him to wobble his way to the runway.

He shouldn't miss this show, because this might very well be the last fashion show he'll ever walk for. He shouldn't do a lot of things, really. Iwaizumi's a bad influence on him and his career as a model. He hasn't met up with Ushiwaka-chan for a fairly long time too and Ushiwaka-chan has never been the type to be clingy or caring and it's just suddenly so easy to see the divide of his life, to the point that it's practically separated into pre-Iwaizumi and post-Iwaizumi.

"I asked Kageyama to help me."

"Aw, you even roped in Tobio-chan to help you in your stalking escapades?" Oikawa tries to lighten the mood by his teasing words, though his heart is honestly in too much pain right now to handle this. He tries to imagine Tobio-chan negotiating with Ushiwaka-chan to get a copy of his itinerary—he probably had to get his partner to intervene on his behalf too, because Ushiwaka-chan has a strange affinity for that shrimp. He tries to imagine Iwaizumi begging Tobio-chan to help locate his exact whereabouts. He tries to imagine what could have been if he has met Iwa-chan all those years ago instead.

His vision becomes blurrier, because of the pain all over his body.

His knee hurts.

His mind hurts.

His heart hurts.

"Well, it's not like I know anyone else with connections to this fashion show!"

This isn't happening.

This isn't supposed to happen.

This isn't—

But Iwaizumi's hands are warm, his voice is warm, his presence is warm.

It's supposed to be winter but Oikawa feels so warm surrounded by Iwaizumi's presence, it's almost unfair.

This shouldn't be happening because Oikawa has already resigned himself to a lifetime built upon years of regrets, but Iwaizumi's a bad influence on him and his lifestyle.

He isn't ready for this.

He might never be ready for this.

But even so—

"Heh, you should really try having more friends, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi's massaging hands pause, his body growing tense for a moment, the lines of his shoulders taut as a bowstring. Oikawa's breath catches in his throat as the pain inside his chest double. It's only for a moment, then the soothing motions return, the tiny smile widening the slightest bit upon Iwaizumi's face.

And Oikawa breathes in again, deeply, exhales, lightly.

He might really never become ready for this, but seems to be fine.

"I really don't wanna hear that from you."

"How mean, Iwa-chan~"

"Pipe down while we're waiting for the ambulance to arrive, will you?"

This shouldn't be happening.

Oikawa feels the strands of his life slipping away from his grasp, unraveling and scattering away from him.

"…aye, sir."

Oikawa's strangely at peace with that thought.

(Of course, at this point, Oikawa doesn't even have to think about what it means for him to finally accept the destruction of the life he has spent so long to carefully build.)  
  
••• **to be continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... at this rate, i'll probably end up posting one scene per chapter ughhh. i debated long and hard w/myself whether to extend their ~fight~ but i figured that even as not-childhood-friends, i really don't think of them as people who will fight for a long time. that said, just because they've sort of made up doesn't necessarily mean that oikawa's been magically cured of his anxiety/self-esteem issues;;;; *eyes the long list of scenes to follow* iwa-chan still has a long way to go!!!
> 
> also: i've posted the companion fic _"then I found you (and felt something give way)"_ , which is from iwa-chan's pov. [it's hereeee](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2691929) :3


	5. 08 – hospital room

••• **08 – hospital room**

"Ugh, Iwa-chan, don't eat the alien cheese sandwich…"

Oikawa Tooru wakes up with the taste of yesterday's meal and bizarre dreams on his lips.

His way of waking up has been pretty systematic ever since he can remember. First, he rubs at his eyes with his left hand, while his right hand busies itself patting at his cheeks for any signs of drooling (but he doesn't find anything because he doesn't drool _ever_ ). Step one is already thwarted (he doesn't even make it to steps two and three where he stretches his hands above his head and wiggles his toes against the kicked-to-the-foot-of-the-bed blankets) by the fact that there's a hand circling his right wrist.

Oikawa blinks blearily at the figure half-slumped to his hospital bed, knowing who it is despite only feeling the hand holding his wrist and seeing the mop of spiky hair that's just the tiniest bit droopy right now.

He wonders how long it has been since his admission to the hospital after his embarrassing breakdown at the backstage of an important fashion show – quite possibly the most important fashion show of his life.

He wonders how long it has been since Iwa-chan has been holding his wrist, because he almost feels like there's a mark branding him there, the touch burning like an iron shackle that should feel like imprisonment, only it doesn't.

He wonders how long it has been since his carefully-cemented life has been pried apart with such rough, brutish hands.

It doesn't take long for Iwa-chan to sense that he's being stared at and judged thoroughly. With a deep yawn that speaks volumes of fatigue, Iwa-chan wakes up, his left hand rubbing at his eyes to get rid of any leftover sleepiness, his right hand tensing, slacking, before going back to holding his wrist as tighter than before. Oikawa wonders if there's going to be a red bracelet of marks around his wrist from the way Iwa-chan's gripping his skin.

Iwa-chan straightens up from his slump over the hospital bed, eyes clear and staring straight at Oikawa. He opens his mouth to greet him—and Oikawa wonders what will be Iwa-chan's first words to him after such a daring and heart-pounding rescue, because that word will probably be something that he will forever remember.

"…dumbass."

"—Hey!!!" Oikawa huffs and puffs about how Iwa-chan surely doesn't know proper social decorum. "You were supposed to say something _cool_ , Iwa-chan!"

The other looks at him like he's gone unhinged, but there's an understanding in his eyes like he totally knows what was running through Oikawa's mind.

"Dumbass is already too cool for you. _Dumbass_."

"Hmph, you were supposed to say something like, 'I was worried for you' or 'You look super beautiful when sleeping' or even 'You look even more innocent asleep', but noooo, you're so Iwa-chan and you're meaaaan."

"…I was worried." Iwa-chan says that so straight-forwardly that Oikawa shuts up immediately, his voice suddenly fleeing at the sound of the other's honesty.

"W-Well, that's good," Oikawa replies eventually, his eyes finding the bedsheets suddenly more interesting. He doesn't want to look at how Iwa-chan's fingers form a lovely contrast against his pale skin nor does he want to keep on staring into Iwa-chan's eyes because they're such a boring color of coffee after a long stressful night and—he just _doesn't_.

Oikawa tries his best to not meet the other's gaze that his eyes end up wandering around the hospital room that's really spacious and almost seems like a hotel suite, with a mini-living room on one corner and a kitchenette on the other. Even the quality of the sheets feels extra special. His eyes swivel back to the mini-living room, specifically, on the comfortable-looking loveseat.

"…Iwa-chan is such a meanie, but you're really a big softie d _eeee_ p inside, huh?"

"The hell are you talking about?" Iwa-chan asks gruffly, following his gaze to the loveseat where he could have stayed more comfortably, instead of slumping over Oikawa's sleeping form.

It's just that it's been quite some time since someone has looked after him this selflessly that Oikawa's a bit baffled on how to react.

That's all.

He's just a bit overwhelmed by how someone he only knew for around a year is able to affect him like this.

…that's all.

There's a moment of silence that Oikawa uses to think about how many more surprises Iwa-chan has in store for him.

"I asked Kageyama to contact Ushiwaka for you."

"What?! Why would you do that?!"

Oikawa takes that back – he doesn't like Iwa-chan's surprises at all.

To even bring Tobio-chan into this…

And for Tobio-chan to even indulge him…

Iwa-chan is really a terrifying person to be reckoned with.

"…to let him know that his stupid boyfriend is in the hospital?" Iwa-chan's voice doesn't waver when he drops the label that Oikawa has been avoiding. Oikawa isn't looking at him, so he doesn't see if the other's expression ever changed.

"Pffft, you're so silly, Iwa-chan~" Oikawa says airily after spending a few seconds to calm his thoughts. Iwa-chan would really make for a nice babysitter, but Oikawa doesn't need his meddling, especially when Ushiwaka-chan is involved. Though it's kind of amusing to hear Iwa-chan refer to Ushiwaka without any honorifics, like the other's presence means _nothing_. "You shouldn't hope for miracles – Ushiwaka-chan will not drop any of his volleyball commitments for me and my silly accidents."

Oikawa hopes that he doesn't sound as bitter as he thinks. He's long over the fact that he just doesn't quite measure up to any of the things he likes and used to like, but hearing himself say those words out loud after a few years of bottling them deep inside is still kind of sickening.

"…Then Ushiwaka is a shitty boyfriend."

Oh. 

… _Oh_.

Iwa-chan is really so blunt and straightforward with no care for etiquette and politeness.

Well then.

Oikawa finally looks back at Iwa-chan and sees a _calm_ there that he thinks he also wants for himself.

"…You really don't have bedside manners at all, Iwa-chan."

Oikawa doesn't say that he's happy that Iwa-chan's here with him, but he thinks Iwa-chan already knows anyway.

(Of course, at this point, Oikawa doesn't even have to think what would have happened if Iwaizumi had continued to say something else about Ushiwaka's presence in his life.)

••• **to be continued  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …Happy New Year!!! :)
> 
> A very short update, but it's an update nevertheless??? I'm sorry for neglecting IwaOi – it's not that I love them less, it's just that I've been swallowed by Magi & JuHaku orz That said, this chapter marks the transition to Oikawa not being super focused into modeling. His opening lines about being a supermodel/his age are gone, as well as the he isn't, he isn't, he isn't part.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for taking so long to update! And to all the Ushiwaka fans, I'm sorry I still couldn't get into his segment. He'll be on the phone with Oikawa in segment 09 & Iwaizumi/Ushiwaka will meet in segment 10. I'm kind of excited for segment 10 because not only will it reveal the how Ushiwaka and Oikawa even ended up together, but Ushiwaka of all people will reveal something about Iwaizumi that Oikawa didn't even know LOL
> 
> Lastly, I'll be realistic and say that the next update is most likely just going to be segment 09 orz …yes. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments OTL


	6. 09 - hotel lobby

••• **09 - hotel lobby**  
  
"Ugh, and I’m not even _the only star_ in this commercial! It’s _unbelievable_!"

Oikawa Tooru’s a bit puzzled if he should feel victorious (this is the first time a phone conversation with the very sociable, very chatty, very _not,_ Ushiwaka-chan has lasted over three minutes) or validated (because wow, there’s nothing more effective in increasing stress by attempting to talk it out with a human-shaped wall).

He settles for huffing in annoyance at his conversation partner’s wonderful response.

If Ushiwaka were more prone to crass language, he’d probably say something like ‘Fuck off’, but since he’s boring even when it comes to colorful language, what reaches Oikawa is just the very simple words of wisdom (also known as: ‘If you’re doubting it, then don’t do it. Anything else is a waste of time.’).

But then again - that kind of confidence when it comes to the job opportunities is only there because he’s Ushiwaka.

While he’s Oikawa.

He’s just Oikawa Tooru, isn’t he?

Too busy into huffing and puffing at the lack of sympathy from the other end, Oikawa barely notices the dial tone after Ushiwaka disconnected their first communication in weeks.

He doesn’t think about the words ‘…Then Ushiwaka is a shitty boyfriend’.

He really doesn’t.

But he does think about Iwa-chan next, because surely, Iwa-chan isn’t too brutish to just hang up on him without even trying to console him?

Oikawa sinks deeper into the comfier-than-it-had-the-right-to-be couch arranged artfully in the hotel lobby commandeered to be the location of this commercial shoot. The hotel doesn’t stop its operations, even if a great part of its lobby has been reserved for cameramen setting up huge motion cameras, assistants milling around like excited puppies as they expertly maneuver around the wires and the light set-ups.

He doesn’t know where the other stars of the commercial are hanging out, but he’s not particularly interested in finding out. They haven’t been introduced yet and that’s fine. He only has an option of two types of people and it’s either that they’re fawning so much over him—or. Or, the reality of the past few weeks, months, that he’s fading out from spotlight, that he’s disappearing from the world he has wrestled himself into after getting kicked out of his preferred reality.

They would either fawn over him or ignore him.

He’s not sure which hurts more, at this point.

"—you call me and disturb me, but you’re just huffing weirdly at me. What gives, shittykawa?"

Oikawa blinks.

He’s still reclining like an indolent king, but his left hand has started drawing circles into his upper thigh, his right hand gripping his phone next to his ear.

Huh.

He doesn’t remember actually dialing Iwa-chan’s number.

He’s not that desperate; he feels stricken, for a moment, because he remembers Iwa-chan’s emoji-less mail from four days ago, telling him to behave because he’ll be stuck in the hospital for straight shifts this week.

...Not that Iwa-chan uses emoji in his other mails.

...Not that they’ve exchanged that much mails anyway.

It’s just to send overly perky morning greetings. It’s just to wittle time away as he waits in the queue in the coffee shop. It’s just to give himself an excuse to keep on looking down whenever he can’t avoid public commute. It’s just to tease the other for being worse than an old man when it comes to a lack of social life. It’s just to disturb the other from falling asleep so soon. It’s just to prove that he’s a brat.

It’s just.

It’s not _that much._

Anyway.

"Ahahaha, don’t worry about it, Iwa-chan! I think my phone has been cursed, why would it dial your number anyway?"

He lets his mouth run off, spinning some tale or the other, because he just.

It’s easier than being honest.

Not that there’s anything to be honest about.

Well, he’s the teensiest relieved to hear Iwa-chan after a few days of no contact, but that’s only because he’s finally convinced Iwa-chan to give him special appointment rights when the other’s working on outpatient clinic duty. This city is getting too crowded, too many sick people, too little hospitals. He’s not about to find another doctor who will help him cut waiting times queuing to be checked.

That’s all, because there’s no other reason to be relieved to hear Iwa-chan’s gruff voice that’s almost as though he’s really, truly busy and that he’s really, truly tired.

"—Bye, Iwa-chan!"

He finally chirps out, because Iwa-chan sounds like he’s death warmed over.

Without a pause, Oikawa shuts his phone off.

He doesn’t need another repeat performance of his hands’ betrayal, after all.

There’s a minor commotion nearby, and then one of the harried-looking assistants, a blonde girl looking fresh out of high school gesturing wildly and stuttering, before flailing about. Shimizu, one of the more popular make-up artists in the industry, comes up and places a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulders, before beckoning for him to come follow them.

"—Oikawa-san, it’s your turn now."

He doesn’t get a chance to berate his body for moving on autopilot; he doesn’t get a chance to question his life choices leading him to this point, automatically seeking comfort in the person with the worst bedside manner _ever_.

That’s probably for the best.

He’s able to finish his part of the commercial fairly quickly, because he’s a professional who actually does research about the company and producer that hired him, who actually reviewed the product’s previous commercials, who actually read the script.

He’s not particularly tired, but he kind of wants to get out of here soon.

He doesn’t get the chance to speed out of the hotel lobby though, because there’s apparently a scene where all four of the endorsers need to be in the same frame.

Oikawa ends up re-opening his phone after five hours, finally done with all of his parts in the shoot, both individual and group portions completed to the satisfaction of the director. He usually spends the after-shoot time to schmooze with directors and models alike, but not today.

He fiddles with his phone, eyebrow shooting up when he sees that there’s fourteen new messages in his inbox. That’s not surprising, considering that he’s still popular amongst his contacts, but what mystifies him is that all of them came from Iwa-chan.

He only sees the most recent message - _That’s it, I’m calling Kageyama, you big baby, I cannot believe you have a low battery, ever heard of a powerbank_ \- before he nearly drops his phone.

Slouched like a fatigued, grumpy bear on the same couch that Oikawa occupied earlier is the one person that Oikawa would never wish for to be here.

(He’s not lying, is he?)

"...Iwa-chan, what the hell."

He wars with himself - it’s over quickly, all things considered - and ends up snapping a quick picture of the drool-less, frowning-even-in-his-sleep, wow-those-are-eyeSUITCASES-not-eyebags Iwa-chan.

"...Iwa-chan?"

He tentatively reaches out and taps the other on the shoulder.

Iwa-chan’s eyes open reflexively, looking very much like a disgruntled bear.

Oikawa yelps as Iwa-chan immediately stands up and hits him with a punch to the arm, as though he doesn’t look like a zombie powered by caffeine injections.

"Oww, Iwa-chan, you brute!"

"Shut up, I’m too tired to hear your whining."

"Why are you even here, then?!"

Oikawa bites his lip as soon as those words escape him though.

He curses his body for weirdly associating comfort with this man.

"I could hear your nerves over the phone, you dumbass. Of course, I’d be here."

But Iwa-chan has three-day straight shifts this week, right?

But Iwa-chan should be getting what little rest he can get, right?

But Iwa-chan shouldn’t be here wasting his time, right?

He’s not relieved, is he?

He’s not lying, is he?

But honesty is too much right now.

Oikawa feels laughter bubbling from his gut. He rubs at his cheeks, because he should be maxed out of smiles now, toothpaste commercials can turn a model off from smiling for three days or so he has heard.

"You know, Iwa-chan, I was seconds away from calling some forest rangers to pick you up?"

Oikawa reaches out to help Iwa-chan carry his briefcase - it’s too formal compared to his usual, is Iwa-chan supposed to return to work after this? - but Iwa-chan’s all sorts of macho and stuff, because he smoothly switches the briefcase to his left hand, so that his right hand can manhandle Oikawa.

"You wouldn’t shut up, would you."

"People _pay_ to hear me speak, you know!"

"There’s a lot of stupid people, don’t be so proud."

"So mean! I really should have called forest rangers to deal with your grumpy bear self!"

The hand on Oikawa’s left elbow twitches a little bit.

"But then I figured that I don’t have the keys to your cage, so I didn’t want to trouble them! I’m too nice, this Oikawa-san truly is."

Iwa-chan stops walking towards the hotel’s exit, half-turning so they can be face-to face.

Oikawa expects the pain, sort-of.

He briefly considers yelling out that Iwa-chan’s about to throw a bomb, just as he _feels_ Iwa-chan let go of his elbow, just as he sees Iwa-chan rummage through his pockets with his left hand.

He expects the pain, sort-of.

He blinks, his hands reflexively cupping near his forehead to figure out what’s that thing that dared to harm his beautiful face, to investigate the source of that tingling sensation on his forehead.

He blinks again, blinks one more time for good measure.

The _thing_ caught in his hands.

It’s shiny.

It’s metallic.

It’s small.

It’s a little cold to the touch.

It’s still a little warm from Iwa-chan’s pockets.

It’s.

"It’s the key to my cage."

(Of course, at this point, Oikawa doesn't even have the time or the presence of mind to protest about Iwaizumi’s resumed manhandling or Iwaizumi’s attack against his person or Iwaizumi’s keys in his hands.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> post chapter notes:
> 
> updating after 10000 years because seijo, because haikyuu!! 24, because I clearly am a masochist for loving the rival schools too much.
> 
> hopefully all the formatting showed up as I had typed this while on a seminar I’m supposedly paying attention to. being an adult is hard.
> 
> thank you as always for those who read, for those who comment, for those who ask me if i’m still alive.
> 
> now, please excuse me as I cry tears AGAIN


End file.
